#they apparently haven’t talked about it at all

[cordycepsfem]

You’re a 14-year-old - no, I don’t want to sit down with you. You haven’t lived enough to justify lecturing, but apparently it didn’t stop you from word-vomiting.

1.) Males are not women, and cannot become women. That’s not an insult, it’s a fact. There’s no huge mob waiting to “attack” you, or literally any other trans person, outside your door simply for being trans. You’re 14 and you’ve been lied to by the internet.

Me, or anyone else, not believing in your gender religion doesn’t mean you’re “unsafe.” It means that not all of us buy into gender, and that’s something you will probably need to get used to as you get older.

2.) Women’s bathrooms, sports, and other spaces and places set aside for women and girls are not inclusive of men and boys for a reason. Only selfish, uncaring people refuse to understand why women and girls might want or deserve things that are segregated by sex.

Being exclusive is not a bad thing. As a white woman, I’m not going to lead a BLM meeting. Similarly, I don’t want an abled person speaking over me about what’s best for disabled people. People and places are exclusive all the time - we don’t let adults attend elementary school or enter sports competitions against children; everyone’s different sexuality means they exclude at least some people; and untrained citizens don’t get to try to perform brain surgeries or attempt to fly planes.

About your “source” for #1: if you look at the fear-mongering “data” pushed by the HRC, who claims something like 35 murders of trans people in the US per year, you will see that so many of those murders are hate crimes. They are murders that could happen to any one of us - carjacking, domestic violence, or similar crimes. So few of them are actually hate crimes that it should be legal to prosecute the HRC for propaganda. Those trans people killed worldwide for engaging in high-risk sex work deserve safer fulfilling work where they are less likely to face violence… but the HRC doesn’t really mention how sex work is the cause of the violence against them. Huh.

And #2: You mean the male Olympic competitor Imane Khelif, who has a DSD and isn’t trans at all? How perfectly trans to co-opt the struggle of intersex people and use it to make points about their nonexistent problems.

Please seek therapy and break free of the internet addiction that got you to repeat the tired talking points you regurgitated at me. Stop using people with DSDs to talk about trans issues - it’s gross. Hope that helps!! 🤩

"Trans women are actually women for real, not in a metaphorical sense, not in a "anyone can be anything" sense, but genuinely actually make more taxonomic sense to classify in the category of women than any other group" is a position you'll find is pretty radical even in queer spaces

[harrywavycurly]

Loving a Killer: Tuesdays are for Dancing

Masterlist: Here

Pairing: Killer!Harry x wife!reader

Tag List: @umadirectioner

CW: Language, mentions of ways to harm someone, mentions of weapons, mentions of drugs (it’s a pain medication that Harry doesn’t know about), threats, and as always Harry and Mitch kill people for a living in this series.

A/N: I had to come up with a way to introduce y’all to Niall and this just seemed to fit? It’s dramatic but in a fun-ish way or at least in a fun way for this series.

Summary: Mitch gets a call while him and Harry are at work and it leads so some dramatic events that let us get introduced to your nosey cubical mate that is the one and only Niall Horan✨

“I say we use the zip ties on his ankles.” Harry suggests as he places a hand on his hip while running his free one through his hair as he stands in front of a fold out table littered with different objects he packed with him for this evening’s job. “Makes it easier to move him to the trunk if his ankles are tied together and the zip ties haven’t let us down before unlike the-”

“I get it okay? Rope only works in the movies but how was I supposed to know that?” Mitch says in an attempt to defend his choice of wanting to use rope on a man’s hands and feet a few jobs ago, but it ended up being a massive issue because the rope kept coming undone as they moved the body from the living room to the car and then to the woods to be disposed of.

“It could’ve worked if you knew how to properly tie a knot.” Harry states as he reaches for the bundle of zip ties while Mitch just rolls his eyes as he walks over to the man lying on his back in the middle of the basement.

“Let me guess-” Harry turns to look over his shoulder as Mitch bends down and grabs the knife from next to the man’s wrist, placing it in his open duffle bag near the table. “You know how to tie a perfect knot?” He questions making Harry just shrug as he looks back at the table so he can count out four zip ties, deciding it’s best to do the wrists as well just to be safe.

“I mean I’ve been known to be able to tie a decent knot or at least one someone can’t wiggle their way out of.” Mitch doesn’t miss the slight suggestive tone to Harry’s voice as he talks or the small smirk that tugs at his lips when he turns to hand him two zip ties so he can get started on tying the man’s wrists together while Harry works on his ankles.

“Really? She’s into being-” Before Harry can even shoot him a warning glare to watch what comes out of his mouth next, Mitch’s brows are pinching together as he moves the zip ties to one hand so he can reach into his back pocket of his jeans for his phone. “Uh hello?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he begins to zip tie the man’s ankles while keeping a watchful eye on his bestfriend who in all the years he’s been working with him can count on three fingers the times he’s ever answered the phone while on a job.

“Yes-yeah he’s with me.” Mitch gives Harry a quick glance making Harry get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “What? Uh-uhm okay yeah yeah we will uh-yeah be right there uh huh-bye.” Harry is already done with the man’s ankles and standing up by the time Mitch is hanging up and sliding his phone back into his jeans.

“What happened?” Mitch runs a hand over his face with his free hand before he looks at Harry who is packing his backpack up, preparing to leave the moment Mitch explains what the phone call was about because he can just tell whatever it was about isn’t good.

“That was Niall-”

“Niall? As in my wife’s coworker Niall?”

“Uh yeah so apparently she goes to-”

“To dance lessons on Tuesdays? Yeah because that’s the night we work late and she doesn’t like to be home alone at night that much. Now what the fuck happened? Why did he call you?”

“Well if you would just let me talk I would happily tell you.” Harry sends Mitch a glare as he shoves the last of his stuff into his backpack but Mitch just ignores him as he quickly finishes zip tying the man’s wrists together.

“Niall went with her tonight because he was bored and I guess something happened and he thinks her toe is broken? But she’s okay and-and Harry dude where are you going? I drove us here you asshole!” Mitch shouts as he scrambles to get to his feet and grab his duffle bag before Harry is at the top of the stairs that lead to the kitchen of the man’s house.

The thing is Mitch knows Harry well enough to know he will absolutely leave him here if he doesn’t make it to the car fast enough so Mitch skips every other step and barley makes it into the passenger seat before Harry is putting the car into reserve and heading towards where he already knows you’re at. Harry doesn’t bother looking at how fast he’s going or how quickly the lights change from yellow to red as he runs through them. The only thing running through his mind is getting to you as fast as he can because until his eyes land on you and he sees for himself just how badly you’re hurt or hopefully how not hurt you really are, he can’t focus on much else.

“Traffic laws are still in effect by the way and I’m pretty sure you’ve already broken three of them.” Mitch reminds his friend who he knows is just in a panicked and probably slightly angry state of mind over the fact you got hurt and he wasn’t there to stop it from happening or make you feel better the moment it happened.

“Yeah well coming from someone who just stabbed a man not even two hours ago I think traffic laws are the least of our worries.” Harry argues with a casual tone that makes Mitch just let out a chuckle as he shakes his head.

“You just always have to be right don’t you?” This gets a small smile out of Harry as he briefly looks over at Mitch with a shrug.

“So…Niall has your number?” Mitch lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes making Harry grin because he can see the tiniest hint of a smile wanting to form on his face, he knew the two of them hit it off when they met a few weeks ago at the festival but he hadn’t heard much else about it because well Mitch isn’t one to share details about his personal life unless Harry really pushes for them.

Mitch knows Harry is only asking about Niall as a way to distract himself so his mind won’t wonder off to the darkest corners and start imagining the worst possible scenarios the two of them could be headed towards even though the only injury either of them know you might have is a broken toe. So Mitch decides that he’ll be nice, he will let Harry in on some bits of information regarding the Irish brunette man he was forced to meet at an event he only agreed to go to because of the promise of cookies and the chance to indulge in carving into something for fun and not for work, Mitch has always enjoyed a good pumpkin carving contest. But he also isn’t going to give this information up easily, so he thinks of something Harry can do for him in exchange for it.

“I’ll tell you about it if you actually stop at the next red light.” Mitch offers causing Harry to let out a huff as he reluctantly lets off the gas just a bit, his way of silently agreeing to the terms his bestfriend gave him making Mitch loosen the death like grip he has on the passenger side door handle.

Niall is a ball of nerves as he looks at the door of the bar waiting for it to burst open and to see your husband walk through it, he chews on his bottom lip as he looks down at his phone and sees it’s been five minutes since he’s called Mitch so he knows that’s probably way too soon for Harry to arrive considering both of them were at work when he called. He wouldn’t feel so nervous if the last few times he saw Harry he was just a little more friendly because the thing Niall doesn’t understand is how someone who works with computers and is a certified tech nerd can be so terrifying but that’s exactly what Harry is to Niall, terrifying. He knows the moment Mitch and Harry walk through the door he is going to be getting some hard glares and probably a nasty comment or two so he’s just trying to prepare himself the best he can.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a good color I just said it’s unusual that’s all.” Niall’s head shoots up at the sound of Mitch’s voice as his eyes land on the door just in time to see Mitch walk through it with Harry following close behind him.

Now Niall has seen Harry before, he’s met him three or four times in casual settings and once at an office party but he’s never seen him look quite like this. The sleeves of his all black button up are rolled up to his elbows letting him get an eyeful of the tattoos that decorate his forearms and hands, it’s tucked into well fitting black trousers that are held up with a thin black belt while his hair is pushed back and his usual glasses are gone making Niall assume he has contacts in. It’s as if his attire just adds another layer of his already intimidating personality making Niall swallow down his nerves as Harry’s eyes finally land on him.

“Where is she?” Niall feels his eyes go wide at how harsh and deep Harry’s voice is as he walks towards where he’s standing near the end of the bar. He opens his mouth to say something but it’s as if all of a sudden Niall doesn’t knows how to form actual words so he just kind of stands there opening and closing his mouth for a moment making Harry’s jaw clench as his eyes narrow in one of the harshest glares Niall has ever been on the receiving end of.

“She’s in my office.” Harry’s glare softens as he looks away from Niall and towards Jeff who is standing behind the bar cleaning some glasses.

“Thanks.” Harry calls over his shoulder as he rushes past Niall and towards the back office of the bar and that’s when Niall lets out a deep sigh as he turns to rest his hands on the top of the bar finally feeling like he can somewhat breathe now that Harry is out of the room.

“Don’t take it personally he’s like that with everyone.” Mitch explains as he comes up to stand next to Niall so he can place a reassuring hand on his back.

“Is he always so-so intense?” Mitch just shrugs as Niall turns his head to look at him with a raised brow. “Nice to see you again by the way. This isn’t exactly how I imagined it going but I’ll take what I can get.” Niall jokes or at least tries to as an attempt to lighten the mood and he thinks it’s worked when he hears a soft chuckle come from Mitch’s mouth.

“Harry just really loves his wife that’s all.” Mitch explains as he looks around Niall and signals Jeff who just gives him a nod and a smile before turning around to start making Mitch’s usual drink. Niall just rolls his eyes as he turns his body so he’s now facing Mitch with his elbow on the bar and his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Oh come on the man looked like he wanted to kill-”

“What the fuck did you give her?” Harry’s voice is loud and full of anger that’s directed towards the man standing in front of Mitch as he comes barreling out of Jeff’s office. Niall doesn’t have time to do anything before Harry has a fistful of his shirt and is shoving his back into the bar with one hand while his other hand slams down onto the top of the bar allowing him to lean over Niall as he speaks. “You have five seconds to tell me why my wife is in that office acting loopy and dazed out of her fucking mind.” Mitch doesn’t even flinch at how harsh Harry’s tone is as his grip on Niall’s shirt tightens, Mitch just places a hand on Harry’s shoulder which he instantly shrugs off making Mitch roll his eyes.

“Harry you’ve got to-”

“Tell me to calm down and I swear I’ll break his nose right now.” Harry threatens as he quickly turns to give Mitch a look that makes the long haired man let out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair. “You now have three seconds.” He states as his attention goes back to Niall who is trying his hardest not to freak out at the fact he just heard Harry casually mention breaking his nose.

“She uhm said she-she was in pain so I gave her something to make her feel better that’s all.” Niall explains the best he can with how he’s bent over the bar.

“You don’t know me very well Niall but you should know that I hate to repeat myself.” Niall closes his eyes after Harry’s statement half expecting to feel a blow to his face giving him the broken nose he heard him mention just a moment before. “So just know I’m only going to ask you one more time.” Niall slowly opens his eyes as Harry’s grip on his shirt loosens but only slightly. “What did you give her?” Mitch looks at Niall over Harry’s shoulder and raises an eyebrow at him and that’s when Niall realizes he might’ve made a mistake.

“I gave her a pain pill I had saved over from my knee surgery that I just keep around for emergencies.” Harry quirks a brow at Niall’s admission as his eyes momentarily glance down to his knees and Mitch knows he’s storing that information for later just incase he needs to use it against the man he still has in his harsh grip. “I just wanted her to feel better I’m sorry.” He blurts out making Harry let out a scoff as he gives Niall a shove as he releases his hold on his shirt.

“Oh well she’s feeling wonderful Niall so wonderful she can’t tell even me what actually hurts or what happened.” Harry says with a dark chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair while he turns to take a step away from Niall. “All she knows is that she feels nice and floaty.” He says as he glares at Niall over his shoulder, Niall stands up and fixes his shirt with a sigh as he glances towards the office door he knows you’re currently behind.

“I’m sorry-” Niall’s apology is cut off by Harry just ignoring him as he heads back towards the office, Mitch just gives Niall a sympathetic look as he follows behind.

“I know he seems like a massive jackass and for the most part he is but maybe if you go back there,” Jeff’s voice causes Niall to spin around and face the bar as he places a shot of whiskey down in front of him, Niall follows Jeff’s head tilt in the direction of his office. “You’ll see him in a different light.” He finishes explaining as Niall reaches down for the shot glass.

“I’d rather not get my ass kicked but thanks.” Niall answers before downing the shot and handing the empty glass to Jeff who just laughs.

“He won’t even notice you’re in the room.”

“Trust me he’ll notice. He fucking hates me man. I practically drugged his wife.”

“If you’re in the same room as her then no. He won’t.” With that Jeff turns and heads towards the opposite end of the bar leaving Niall standing there with no other option really than to just suck it up and honestly he doesn’t want to seem like a horrible friend so he needs to at least go check and see how you’re doing.

Mitch turns to look at the door when he sees it open and he gives Niall a small smile as he leans against the doorframe a few feet from where Mitch is leaning against the wall closest to the door. Harry doesn’t pay him any attention as he kneels down in front of the small couch in Jeff’s office, right in front of where your left foot is propped up on a pillow.

“Baby can you tell me if this hurts?” Niall feels his mouth slightly drop open at the tone of Harry’s voice, it’s soft and gentle, not a trace of the anger Niall heard earlier and the way he’s looking at you is as if he thinks even too harsh of a glance could break you.

“Sweetheart.” Harry’s face breaks out into a playful smile as he looks over at you and sees your eyes are closed but he knows by the way you’re breathing that you’re not asleep, just acting like you are.

“You sound like my husband.” Mitch chuckles as you let out a sigh while still keeping your eyes closed while Harry just playfully rolls his eyes at you as he gently reaches over and puts his hand on top of your foot. “But you can’t actually be him because it’s Tuesday and Tuesdays are for dancing.” Harry just nods with a smile still on his face as he puts a little bit of pressure on your foot while looking at your face for any signs of discomfort.

“Oh is he not allowed to come to these dancing Tuesdays?” Harry asks as he moves his hand further down your foot, still applying pressure and seeing if you show any signs of pain. When you give him a small pout he immediately removes his hand from your foot and rests it on your ankle. “Did that hurt baby?” Harry questions with a furrowed brow as you slowly open your eyes.

“He works late Tuesdays and comes home when I’m asleep.” You mumble sadly making Harry return your pout as he stands up and places a hand on the back of the couch so he can lean down and place a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna know a secret?” Harry just lets out a soft chuckle as he nods his head while you try to sit up onto your elbows. “Sometimes I’m not asleep and I just act like I am.” You whisper making Harry smile at the little giggle you let out when you fall back onto the couch after telling him your secret.

“That’s so sneaky of you love.” He teases making you smile as you reach up and place a hand on his cheek. “I’m sure your husband hates Tuesdays and coming home so late he has to eat dinner all alone and can’t even get a goodnight kiss.” He explains as he places a kiss to the inside of your wrist before you pull your hand away from his face.

“You always get a goodnight kiss.” You argue making Harry laugh as he leans down to place a quick kiss to your lips in an attempt to get rid of your fake pout.

“Do I? Are you sure?” He asks as he pulls away making you roll your eyes and let out a huff as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Yes I’m sure because you wake me up and beg me for one because you’ll have bad dreams if you don’t get it.” Harry just nods as he quickly leans down and kisses your cheeks before standing up and turning to grab your purse and shoes off the floor.

“That’s right sweetheart your goodnight kisses keep the bad dreams away so if I have to beg for them then so be it.” You smile as you watch him gather your things into your purse and toss the bag over his shoulder before he turns back around so he facing you.

“Hi.” You mumble as you look up at him causing a dimpled grin to take over his face as he looks down at you.

“Hi baby.” He says as he holds out his hands for you to take to help you sit up. “Ready to go home?” You just nod your head and before you can even ask him for your shoes you feel one of his arms under your knees and another under your arms scooping you into his arms. Niall moves out of the way before Harry has to tell him to allowing room for the two of them to exit the office and when you see Niall you give him a big smile and a wave.

“Bye Niall! See you tomorrow!” Niall just laughs and waves back at you while Harry ignores the interaction as he heads for the door to the bar with the keys to your car in his hand.

Harry knows he’s going to have to smooth things over with Niall at some point but not tonight, not when he’s still not even sure what exactly happened or what exactly on your foot hurts. As much as he hates to say it, he can admit he understands why Niall did what he did because he saw his friend in pain and wanted to help so he did what he thought would make you feel better. He just hopes that Niall will keep his moment of anger between the two of them because he just made you a promise about threatening people and he knows you’ll be beyond upset with him if you find out he threatened your cubical mate. But he will find a time to worry about that later because right now all he wants to worry about is getting you home and then figuring out which movie you want to watch in bed while he makes you dinner and gets you situated before he has to unfortunately return to the man in the basement to finish his job for the evening but he decides that can at least wait until you’ve gone to sleep.

With Harry gone Mitch takes a moment and looks over at Niall who he can tell is struggling with understanding how that man was the same man who had him bent over a bar as he casually threatened to break his nose not even five minutes ago. It’s something everyone who meets Harry goes through because they all come to learn that there’s two sides to Harry and only one person gets the side that involves gentle touches and soft voices and that person is you. But Mitch knows that since Niall is your coworker he gets told stories about the softer side of Harry and even though the past few times he’s been around him while Harry hasn’t been the friendliest he wasn’t ever blatantly an asshole, so meeting the rougher side of him full force tonight was probably a bit much.

“It’s weird right?” Mitch asks breaking Niall out of his trance as he stares at the door you and Harry just went through. “Seeing him like that with her?”

“Is he a Gemini or something?” Niall asks with a more than serious expression on his face as he looks from the door to Mitch who just laughs and shakes his head as he reaches over and puts a hand on Niall’s shoulder. “Like with the two people in one body kinda thing?” He adds with a quirked brow making Mitch just give his shoulder a little squeeze.

“Nope he’s an Aquarius.”

[nickfowlerrr]

let’s not.

pairing: mickey henry x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut. feelings. happy ending. not edited. maybe a little ooc- i haven’t watched monday in a minute and i am currently heavy in my feelings so apologies if he is.

words: 1.7k

notes: just a drabble of another fic idea i can’t commit to fully fleshing out and writing. enjoy 🩵

You hiss as your hips slam against the edge of the table. Hard. Over and over again.

The only thing keeping you from dropping to the ground is his hold on you. His large hands gripping your soft waist so tightly you can feel the bruises no doubt forming already.

You let your head hang as you remain pliant to him, low breathy sighs leaving you in between your soft moans every time he hits that one specific spot.

Oh, this was so not how tonight was supposed to go…but it feels too good to care about that right now.

You’re on that very delicate edge, overwhelmed by the pain and pleasure of the way he completely controls you; the way he touches you, the filthy words and sickly sweet praises he groans in your ear as he pushes you both closer and closer to your ends.

Your walls squeeze his cock as your voice peaks. His hand flexes on your waist as he feels your imminent release.

“That’s it,” he breathes heavily against your skin as he leans further into you, his thrusts hitting harder as he chases his high. “Feels good, doesn’t it. Ah, fuck. Come for me, baby. Come on my cock,” he growls. “Let me feel you.”

You wouldn’t be able to hold on any longer if you’d wanted to as your orgasm hits you hard; your muscles tensing, your hand gripping his arm and your eyes scrunching shut as you feel entirely electric before wave after wave of pleasure rolls over you as you succumb to the feeling. To him.

It takes only a moment to realize your eyes are stinging with tears, but it’s not until you slowly start to come down that you realize why.

More like remember why.

He grunts and moans as he reaches his own peak, coming inside you but making sure to keep his hold on you as he works himself through his release.

God, here you are again. Different night, same fucking story. Over and over again.

You feel like a fucking idiot.

You are a fucking idiot.

He slowly pulls out of you, backs up for a second and then keeping his hand on your waist, he pulls your body back into him, hugging you from behind as you frown at the apparent show of affection.

You push his hand off of you and escape his hold before you can allow yourself sink into it, walking gingerly around the table to bend and grab your sweater off the floor - the unflattering one that you had chosen specifically to avoid ending up in this situation again.

That worked well.

You pull it on as he follows behind you, watching you with an intensity you don't want to notice, brows slightly furrowed and his icy blue eyes set on you.

“What, one and done tonight? You alright, sweetheart?” He asks, making a move closer to you, reaching out before you stop him with your response.

“God, can you just stop with the pet names,” you snap, turning to face him, “please.”

It’s like he doesn’t remember the fifteen minutes of conversation you had before he got your clothes off - easy as ever. You don’t think he means to, but the second you start to show your emotions, the second you start to cry, it’s like he can’t help but to try and comfort you. Unfortunately, his idea of comfort always seems to be this.

And even more unfortunate, you always let it happen.

It’s pathetic.

It helps for the time it lasts and then everything hits all over again.

“This is exactly what I was talking about, Mickey,” you’re exasperated already, “you act like you care and y-you give me hope that this might actually be��something more, but,” you shake your head, “all it is to you is sex.” He doesn't move from where he stands, but he drops his hand that was outstretched to you.

You can’t hold his eye for very long, it’s already hurting too much. You drop your gaze but it’s only for a moment before you force yourself to look back up at him. You have to ask the question you really don’t want to know the answer to…

“Isn’t it?”

It’s two simple words, a very simple question, but as your eyes are stinging, pleading for the truth, you know it’s anything but.

He blinks, opens his mouth to speak as he shakes his head, but ultimately says nothing before he takes a deep breath, looking away from you and down to the floor. He licks his lips, nervous habit, before he frames his hips with his hands.

“Should put pants on,” he mutters before walking away, down the hall to his bedroom.

You stand there in a perpetual limbo, listening as he opens a dresser drawer and riffles through the clothes for a second before you hear the drawer close again. It’s not long after that he emerges from his room, pulling a pair of sweats the rest of the way up his legs.

He comes back to stand before you as you lean lightly on the table, desperate not to fall and embarrass yourself any further. You know what comes next.

The inevitable.

The end.

You know how this started, and you’ve known from the beginning how it would end. You just weren’t expecting to get so caught up in him. You weren’t expecting to feel so much with him. For him

It’s your own fault. You couldn’t blame him if you wanted to. It just hurts so much more knowing it was all so one sided, that he didn’t - doesn’t - feel the same way… when you let yourself think too much about it, it doesn’t seem possible actually. As hard as you tried to ignore your feelings for him when they first started growing, it just wasn’t possible. Whatever it is - was - between you two…how could it have been so one sided? How could he not have noticed what you noticed, felt what you felt?

Maybe he just doesn’t want all that with you. Maybe he’s just not ready? Whatever it is, you know you can’t keep waiting for something to give.

You’ve finally come out with it, told him in no uncertain terms how you feel about him, about this…arrangement? relationship that’s not really a relationship?… and so, now he knows. Having sex with you after you confessed your feelings for him, well that was a choice, but you don’t think you’re all too upset about it actually. If this is it, it’s a memorable goodbye.

You’re conscious of your lack of bottoms as you stare at his clothed legs, waiting for the words you’re sure he’s gathering in his mind. He’ll let you down gently, you bet. He’s sweet, and he hates to see you cry. At least you know he’ll be nice about it.

He takes a cautious step closer to you and reaches out a hand to yours, finding your eye to make sure it’s okay first.

When you don’t object or look away, he gingerly takes your hand in his and pulls you closer to him. You swallow the lump in your throat as a tear spills over the edge and slips down your cheek, turning your head to avoid his concerned gaze.

His hand finds your cheek and he turns your face back to him, taking a step closer into you. His hand holds yours as his other holds your face, his thumb gently swiping away at the tear. He takes another step closer, and you’re so close you could just collapse into him completely, chest to chest.

“No,” he whispers, his voice low, sounding deeper than you’ve ever heard it as he looks into your eyes. Your brows furrow as you hear him.

One simple word. A very simple answer. But it’s really anything but. Because what the hell does that mean?

He sees the question in your eyes before you can voice it.

“It was supposed to be. For both of us, I thought,” he adds, reminding you again of how this whole thing started. Just sex. It was supposed to be just sex. He still holds your cheek as you look down, your free hand reaching up to touch his forearm. “But no. It’s not.”

He makes you meet his eye again as he walks into you, your bottom against the table at your back as he lets go of your hand and slips it under the hem of your sweater. His warm palm gliding up and smoothing over your skin, almost tickling you up and down, feeling you, caressing you gently before once again he settles it on his favorite spot, holding your waist delicately. He leans in, his nose brushing yours.

“It’s so much more than that,” his soft lips brush lightly against yours as you take a shaky breath, your body searching for him without you even realizing it before he kisses you again. Firmer, deeper, and with a fervency you’ve never felt before from him; like he’s been holding himself back all this time. Your free hand reaches up to frame his head, your fingers splaying in his hair as you kiss him back just as desperately. You almost feel like you’re in a dream as you lose yourself to him.

He moves you both as you continue your kissing, you following his lead until he turns you and you find yourself falling onto his couch. You catch your breath as you look up at him before he follows you down, pushing you to relax as he lays down next to you. He maneuvers you both so he’s holding you again. You tilt your head up to him, and he readily accepts the invitation, kissing you softly before speaking against your lips. “You don’t know how relieved I was the second you said something,” he titters, like you were the one who was missing the obvious this entire time. He takes your face softly in his hands.

“You’re so much more than that.”

You smile softly back, trying to hold back a sniffle at the clear sincerity in his eyes that has your nose tingling.

“So, you…” you trail off, hands idly ghosting along his chest as you try to think of how you want to ask him.

“Feel the same way,” he finishes for you in affirmation. “There’s something here. And it’s definitely not just sex. ‘D be crazy to try to ignore that. So let’s not.”

You nod, holding his bright blue gaze, a small smile tugging on both of your lips as you look into each other’s eyes; unconsciously leaning closer to one another.

“Let’s not.”

[yeta-drewit]

Wenclair fic recommendations

I’ve read way too many. About 115.

Also all of this are finished fanfics. I believe.

MY TOP ONES

-Hunting season by gobreakaneck. OMG THIS FIC, a season 2 fic, angst to the max, slow burn to the max BUT REALLY GOOD SHIT. Like it’s good guys trust. Unfortunately it’s part one of a series so yk I was left crying for more at the end.

-Yours, Eurydice by hanjisgirlfriend- SAD AND CELEBRITY AU. Enid is an actor, Wednesday is a famous writer and they are neighbors and they share letters with pen names because they don’t want the public to know. ITS CUTE.

-I pledge to you (my blood and soul) by Whatiscolor. WRITER OF THIS FIC I WANT TO TROW HANDS. This is genuinely one of the saddest fics I’ve read. Forced marriage Au WITH A LOT OF ANGST. I’m not joking I cried. Angst was angsting.

-Purgatory would be beautiful with you by Emilywritesatuff- Just Wenclair stuff but Wednesday is kind of acting like a werewolf but she isn’t, it’s kind of like they are mates and Wednesday acts like it. I just like it.

-Christmas Eve(L) by miliamin- Fake dating and Christmas what else can I say?.

Weird Aus

-Let’s get political by WishaDream - Gomes and Esther are campaigning for the same government position. Esther tells Enid to hate Wednesday but she can’t. They hate each other in public but almost kiss in secret. Don’t let the weird au get you it’s actually really good. I like the political comments in between the actual Wenclair story.

- Just the taste of you/ blood in the water by littlebirdonair - another weird au but this time Wednesday is an assassin meant to kill journalist Enid. My best description of the story. Enid "I talked to an assassin Yoko" Yoko "omg girl!. Have you told the police?! How are even alive?!" Enid "Omg girl it was the hottest thing ever, she was so fucking hot" Yoko "wtf girl” (Warning there is one explicit scene. I skipped it as it was really short and I’m not interested in that)

-The Heart Knows No Death by viienrose - Enid is brutally murder by her pack and the Addams family can bring her back to life if she wishes to. Wednesday helps Enids soul process her death and the possibility of coming back. Sad shit but kind of cute Wenclair.

- Driving to my house in the middle of the night by AtomicJellyBean - Wednesday ghostbuster, Enid has existential crisis and is a park ranger and a very popular fanart comic came from this story.

-Strawberry and Lilacs by thislonelyrealm - not Nevermore high school au, Wednesday is new in town and Enid has live there her whole life (she also beats up Tyler). I made fanart of one scene.

- So this is love by LoriLoud- season 1 rewrite. lowkey insane and deranged. Not joking. I’m not rereading it so I may be remembering wrong but just so yk how crazy it is they kiss while Esther is literally burning. It gets so bad I think Yoko is the only survivor. Bad representation of the Addams family but a fun read.

-Parce que toi et moi, ca fonctionne (meme si ca ne devrait pas) by bogteats- Eurovision Song Contest AU. Enid is a French singer and gay, the Addams family is a Spanish band (my Mexican ass is sad they had to be Spanish) it’s a really cool celebrity au with Enid trying to hide she is gay. It’s not in French guys.

-The proposal (Wenclair’s Version) by NyxSmols- apparently is the 2009 movie The Proposal but make it Wenclair. Idk I haven’t seen the movie but the fic was cool. Honestly Enid was giving Debbie at the beginning of the fic and I’m all for that.

Normal AUs

-Vortex by Alotofconfusion- Wenclair childhood friend au. I think it’s cute. Enid is pretty much adopted by the Addams, no one believes Enid that she has a gf, they call each other business partners.

- Imprinting is such a bitch by King_boo - Season 1 rewrite where Enid imprints on Wednesday the moment they meet, so its season 1 if they both immediately liked each other. Slight gaslighting by Wednesday but she works on that.

- Like two Mismatched Pieces Put Together by ShadeNeverMadeAnybodyLessGay- Wenclair childhood soulmates. Enid is abandoned but adopted by the Addams. Just cute kids stuff.

-Cool about it by randomiska - they are in college and they are fake dating to stop their friends from trying to get them together. Obviously it backfires.

Normal ig?

- Everyone comes to Yoko’s by Sincerely_Sierra- Yoko gets the gays together. Yoko is stressed about the gays and she just wants them to stop bothering her.

- What does he have that I don’t? By Kofeew_milkk- Enid hates that Wednesday smells like Tyler. Cute scenting fic.

-Sweet nothings by Hymenopus- They simp for each other while being in opposites sides of the country. They exchange letters and gifts.

-San Francisco by bishopsinclair_(dustydandelions) - Set during the break, Wednesday goes to San Francisco and werewolf chaos ensues. Blood wolf stuff.

- Raven in the den, wolf in the nest by Barbara_lazuli- Fake dating to spite their moms, it’s really cute specially Enid and the Addams family. There are references to the animated movie, I love Parker.

-Downside of Visions by CelticWolf55- it’s a sick fic and it’s very cute.

To make yourself sad

-Bubble Gum bitch by wishadream - Celebrity AU. Depress actor Enid and assistant Wednesday that doubles as a therapist. They don’t end up together but it’s still cute.

- I’ll love you (from the shadows) by mickeroni -technically not a Wenclair story but it’s a Weems story about her being a sad gay for Morticia and projecting towards Wenclair. She goes to the wedding.

-You drive me crazy (baby) by Sincerely_Sierra- Yoko angst, Enid angst, everyone angst. It’s a taking care of a fake baby trope but what I thought would be like domestic fluff just made me sad. YOKO LOVERS READ THIS SHIT.

Fluff no plot

- It’s just a werewolf thing by WelshCakes68 - Enid blames her gayness on the fact she is a wolf, Wednesday is so whipped she accepts this excuse. Oblivious homosexuals.

Silly ones

- Woes of the Heart by 1unluckystudent - It’s just Enid crashing Wednesday’s and Tyler’s date and being like super jealous and really funny. This Enid behavior is what I want from Enid if Wednesday gets another love interest.

-Potion problems by batzeus99 - Switch personalities and it’s super cute and I think it’s like really funny seeing Wednesday act all happy. Enid just acts like Pip from AGGGTM.

- I’m your garbageman by cowardnthief - Wednesday asks Enid for help on a crush she has. Enid is the crush and she is also obviously to it.

- Black Butterfly by misscanteloupe- Wednesday is jealous and makes Enid hug her while Ajax watches. Wednesday just hates Ajax and I find it hilarious.

Parent fics (because I like this type of content)

-Werewolves made with woe by omnical - Podcasters try to investigate the Addams family. Enid gaslight them into going into the house and absolutely scares the shit out of them. Enid is scary but she is trying to protect her kids.

- Plans of Joy by southernsunrise- They try to have kids. It gets sad but trust it gets better. (Warning miscarriage)

-Double trouble by Pieck_Simp- Wenclair twins. Wenclair moms fighting prejudice against their kids.

Obviously what I like you may not like. Some of this are entertaining but not good representations of the characters. I understand some may have poor writing but it’s fanfics guys not a novel. I encourage you to think critically and not get influenced by this fanfics, not everything you read is good and a representation of good behavior, some of these have questionable behaviors that go unpunished because it’s a fanfic. So do keep that in mind and don’t base your behaviors solely on fan fiction.

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing, Implications, Intensity) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: Sorry I haven’t updated in a hot minute everyone. Life has been kicking my butt as well as my husband’s. We had to prioritize, and then afterward I didn’t feel like writing. Not promising regular updates again, but I am consistently working on this. As always, thank you for your support and kind comments. I love you all.

Chapter 13: Not the First

You

You had gone to bed last night, stomach burning and body restless from the day that had transpired. The only comfort had been that Micheal apparently did not care about Anaya’s scent all over you the way the apes cared about his. He had snuggled in close to you as you laid there, thinking about how you would handle the balancing act between the two- no three, species moving forward. Anaya accepted Micheal, at least he stopped trying to kill him once he knew you cared about him. If Noa knew you cared about Micheal, maybe he would also leave him alone? Maybe, he could understand you caring about another animal? He cared about you, didn’t he? At least a little bit. Certainly enough to come talk to you after a fight.

That had caused you to toss and turn even more, not really knowing why Noa had shown up. Maybe he had still been angry, but seeing the situation with you and Anaya had distracted him enough to let it go temporarily. You could only imagine what you had looked like, the definition of sheer panic coming to mind. Noa had always been attentive to your feelings…he probably did push his anger to the side when he saw you were scared. You believed he did anyway, that was just the way he was. Caring, patient, and understanding to a fault.

That thought only served to remind you that the next morning you needed to face him. You needed to apologize for hitting him, maybe talk about the future between you and the clan. You were obviously putting him in a tight spot with the elders. That’s not even speaking about the rock and hard place you were placing Anaya in by having him keep your secret. The elders expected you to show yourself…you had no idea how you would manage that either. If Soona, Anaya, and Noa were there with you, then you should have no trouble feeling safe, but there was something else that made you shudder at the thought. You had this feeling you would be losing something, this small peace you found with your three ape friends. That small, fragile peace built on mutual respect and trust.

You had scoffed at that. Today was an example of how easily trust could be broken, but also re-built. In all fairness, the apes never really expected much from you. Noa even took great pains to make it clear to you that you could always say no. If they asked you to do something you didn’t want to, they wouldn’t force you…but this Caesar Council was a different animal all together. Anaya wanted you to be a part of it, which meant you would be a part of the clan…even if it was indirectly. Either way, it changed things. Anaya said Noa had created new laws, and this council was one of them. That would need to be something you discussed with Noa down the road…probably not tomorrow.

You had almost rambled yourself to sleep at that point, when your eyes had flown open wide and you realized you never decided when you would meet Noa at the rock. Anaya had simply said he would show him where it was. You had groaned and snuggled in deeper under your blanket, knowing you had an early start the next morning.

So here you were, sunbathing on your chunk of safety in the middle of the creek. You were soaking wet from your swim, making sure to scrub away Micheal’s scent as you made your way to your rock. Thankfully, you had sense enough to wear a dirty top that needed to be washed anyway, as well as your singular pair of shorts your reserved for the extreme heats of summer. This summer had not been too bad so far, but today the garment served a new purpose of keeping your modesty while you swam. You would not be caught naked in front of Noa like you had with Anaya. You knew he hadn’t seen anything of course, but you still were not going to repeat your actions and risk the possibility of Noa seeing you naked.

You rubbed at your eyes, a yawn sneaking up on you as you became more comfortable. You were sure Noa didn’t care about your body anymore than Anaya did, but it was the principle of the matter. Humans and their pride…not that you had much to begin with. Still, you clung to the slivers you did have.

You had just fully settled in, sleep creeping along the edges of your consciousness, the early morning sun warming you perfectly, when you heard the hoots of apes. You stretched, turning your head to glance to your right, but did not see hide nor hair of Noa or Anaya. This confused you at first. Did you imagine the noise? You closed your eyes again, only to have them fly open when you heard it again. This time, it was to your left…on the other side of the creek.

You froze for a moment, daring to turn your head at a snails pace to your left. The noises were clearer now. While you were sure they were chimpanzee hoots, they definitely did not sound like gorilla noises, you were still uneasy. Once your head was fully turned, you were surprised to still hear the noises, but see nothing on the other side of the creek.

You sat up slowly, hesitantly, confusion spiking as you looked left, then right once more. Nothing. You pushed yourself up onto your knees, frantically searching for the source of the sounds. You swiveled around on the dry stone, turning in a full circle as your eyes desperately scanned for something that simply wasn’t there. Were you going crazy? You swore you could hear ape noises. You stopped, closing your eyes and listening more intently.

There!

It was coming from your left, as you originally thought, but no matter how hard you looked, you could not see anyone approaching. The tree line was clear up and down stream. Still, you heard the noises, and the longer you heard them, the more pitiful they sounded. Was someone in pain? Were they hurt? What if they were calling for help? You rose into a standing position, practically on tip-toe, blocking the sun from your eyes with your hands in an attempt to see better.

Finally, you spotted the smallest of movements along the bank. It seemed it was just a baby chimpanzee, crouched down on the edge of the creek among the bushes. You felt your lips turn down into a frown, the scared looking chimp tugging at your heartstrings. How did they get here? Why were they all alone? You opened your mouth to call out to them, but immediately stopped yourself, dropping back down to plaster yourself flat against the rock.

No baby would be left alone like this.

You suddenly felt very exposed, creeping yourself back to the edge of the rock before quietly lowering your body back into the water. You stayed behind the rock, on the opposite side of the chimp, who did not seem to be aware of your presence at all. You peaked around the edge, wanting to keep an eye out, but not wanting to be seen. You couldn’t leave the baby alone, but you were still wary to approach them, lest an angry mother burst through the clearing and see you as a threat.

You waited silently, patiently. After a few more minutes of the chimp hooting and no one coming, you heard the noises change. It sounded like- were they…crying? Could apes cry? You floated there, transfixed by the tiny chimp, who curled its arms around itself and sat there sobbing. You fought the urge to reveal yourself, but in the end your heart overruled your head. The chimp was just a baby, you couldn’t leave them there alone and scared.

You carefully maneuvered around the rock, making your way towards the sobbing baby on the bank. You stopped when you felt muddy earth between your toes, water still up to your chest. You called out softly, so as not to scare them, “Do you need help? Are you lost?”

Your soft and careful voice did nothing to soothe the chimp, who jumped back from the edge and started screeching louder. You winced, muscles tensing and nerves screaming at you to swim away and leave. Something in your brain decided against that though, your hands coming up from the water to quickly sign, Friend. No hurt. Safe. Need help?

The baby went silent before you even signed the question, staring at you as if you suddenly became the most fascinating thing they had ever seen. You watched their eyes dart from your hands, to your eyes, to your body in the water, and back to your hands. You repeated the four phrases, wondering if they understood sign yet or if they were too young. Then, after another moment of intense staring, they raised their hand. It was hesitant, but they signed, Alone. Help. Afraid.

You swallowed, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Another moment of hesitation, then a nod and a signed, Yes.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath. “I’m going to come to you. I’m going to walk up to the bank and sit with you. Alright?”

They nodded again.

You returned the nod, slowly walking up the incline until you made it to the edge. The baby did not seem to realize how big you were, head tilting back as you continued to approach. When they could no longer lean back they scrambled to their feet, crouched on all fours before backing up a few steps. You couldn’t blame them, Micheal was easily twice their size. You ran a hand through your wet hair, body slipping down into a sitting position before you crossed your legs. You didn’t want to frighten them anymore than you already had, so you sat and waited. After a moment or two the chimp made their way to you, knuckles brushing against your exposed thigh. They flinched back immediately, as if you would strike at them like a cobra. You let out a breath, trying to smile as you signed, Friend. Safe. Protect.

The furrowed brows and downturned mouth of the chimp eased into something more neutral, more curious, as they decided to climb into your lap. You fought the intense urge to lock up and stiffen your muscles in preparation for an attack. You tried instead to think of the baby as if they were Micheal. They were more open than him though, pinching and pulling at your wet clothes in fascination. That didn’t hold their attention for long though, as they poked at the meat of your upper arms. That forced a giggle out of you, watching them get closer and continue to poke the exposed flesh.

You bit your lip in concentration then, fighting off more laughter, “Do you know where your parents are?”

The chimp paused only long enough to shake their head.

You blew air out of your mouth then in a slow exhale, “Do you have a name?”

The chimp paused, making a gesture over and over that you did not understand. You shook your head, trying to explain that you did not understand. The chimp pouted, opening up their mouth suddenly in a widely comical elongated fashion. You heard a few intakes of air before they huffed and screeched, “E…E…E.”

The loud noise was shrill against your ears. You winced slightly, holding up the hand they weren’t clutching onto, “Okay, okay, easy there. Don’t strain yourself. You can’t talk yet, that’s okay. E is good enough for me.”

E nodded once, puffing their cheeks, before they continued to poke and jab at your arm. You became increasingly confused, watching them and trying to parcel out the reason. Then, they noticed the fascination in their gaze as they dragged a finger down your arm in a slow push. You saw your skin lighten in color from the pressure before darkening again, and you smiled. The color change was something they had probably never seen in an ape before. You let them play to their hearts content, so focused on them that you had lost track of your surroundings.

Then someone called your name.

You snapped your head up, finding Soona standing a few feet in front of you, an unfamiliar Eagle perched on her arm. You breathed a sigh of relief as she began to screech and hoot in delight, “You…found her.”

“Her?” You parroted.

Soona pointed to chimp in your arms, who seemed happier, but reluctant to leave your side. The Eagle on Soona’s arm was given a signal and quickly flew away as she explained, “Wandered off…have been searching…long time.”

Your brow furrowed at that, “Wandered off? Your village is far from here, how did she get this far by herself?”

Soona shook her head, trudging over towards you and practically falling down next to you. She seemed exhausted. “Not from…village…from group of…younglings…upstream.”

Soona held out a hand, which the smaller ape happily grasped a finger of. When Soona reached for her though, E gave a small shout of protest before moving to the opposite side of your body. Soona looked surprised, the young ape becoming fascinated now with your wet, matted hair. She stood on two legs, leaning against your chest for balance as she pulled and tugged at the strands. You winced slightly, but chuckled good naturedly as you locked eyes with Soona.

She broke eye contact for a moment, gaze turning towards the empty forest off to the side. Before you could ask if something was wrong, her attention was back on you, head tilting slightly as she asked, “You are…better…than yesterday?”

You shrugged a shoulder, catching E starting to braid the pieces of your hair that were almost dry. “I guess. I hope you know that I never meant to offend you, or your clan. I’m sorry if you were expecting me and I never showed. I just wasn’t…prepared to see your village.”

Soona hummed, “Noa…should have told you…should have told us…sooner…I am…sorry…that apes have not…always been kind…to you.”

E tilted her head up then, her question obvious though she could not voice it. You shook your head, “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It wasn’t you who was un-kind to me. You, Anaya, and Noa have been nothing but kind to me…for the most part.”

“You are…still angry…with Noa?” Soona asked carefully.

You puffed out a long breath, thinking, snickering as E did her best to mimic your noise. You pulled more hair from your back to your front, noticing she enjoyed braiding. You hoped it would keep her distracted from the conversation, “Can anyone truly stay mad at Noa?”

Soona seemed to brighten at this, but chose to remain silent as you continued, “I understand why he did what he did. I don’t like it, but I understand it. The real problem that day…well…it’s just…. I know there are barriers between our species. It’s more than just speech, and I…I mean, these problems probably have carried over from hundreds of years of differences. You three have been great, but the part that upsets me is that Noa seems to choose to ignore the fact that apes and humans don’t normally co-exist peacefully. We do, but I’ve also experienced the other end of the spectrum between our species. And Noa just…”

Soona hummed, “Think he…does not see…the differences…in you…but you cannot help…but see them…in us.”

You hesitated, but ultimately nodded in agreement. “I don’t hold being apes against you or your clan, I just…wish he understood what it feels like. To not know if you can trust the person- ape, next to you. To not know if they are going to turn on you, betray you, or even hurt you.”

E, who you assumed had been distracted by her task, stopped immediately. She looked up at you then, a soft coo leaving her as she patted your shoulder. You snorted, using a single finger to mirror her actions. She hooted in clear amusement, leaning her head into your shoulder, rubbing her face against you before sliding down into your lap. She seemed tired now, curling into your side and closing her eyes. You felt a smile slowly creep onto your face, carefully using two fingers to stroke the top of the chimp’s head. She snuggled in closer then, gripping tightly onto your shirt as tears threatened your vision and you thought your heart was actually going to explode.

Get a grip.

Your hormones must be crazy right now. At least, that’s what you told yourself, as you brushed a hand along the loose braids along your shoulder. Soona, as she tends to do, had remained quiet during this exchange. She studied you, noticing how emotional you had become, scenting the air quietly before admitting, “Noa does know…what it is like…to be betrayed.”

This surprised you, your attention quickly brought back to the present conversation. Your eyebrows rose, curiosity peaked as you asked, “By a fellow ape?”

Soona shook her head, causing confusion to drown your mind until she spoke, “By a…Echo…you are not the first…that could speak…that Noa has met.”

You felt your jaw go slack, trying to contain your excitement as you asked, “There are other humans around who can speak?”

“There was one,” Soona answered, lips pursed as she noted your disappointment. “We do not know…where she went…left five seasons ago…have not seen her since…her name was…Mae.”

You nodded, urging Soona to continue, “What happened with Mae? You said she…betrayed Noa? How?”

Soona sighed, “We do not…normally speak of her…she was a source…of much pain and…confusion for Noa…think…you should know.”

You waited, allowing Soona to collect her thoughts. “There was ape…Proximus…he was king of apes…he searched for Mae…killed other humans that…were with her…wanted to get inside…a human vault…it held great weapons…that would make Proximus…more powerful.”

A shiver ran down your spine, remembering the ape Sylva that Anaya had spoken of. He never mentioned this Proximus ape though. Wanting a better idea of the situation you asked, “Who was Sylva to Proximus?”

Soona seemed completely surprised you knew that name, but nevertheless answered, “Sylva was…his General…not sure if that is an ape word…or a human word.”

You swallowed, “It’s human…Proximus seems to have already been an advanced ape.”

Soona curled more into herself then, “He was….we all were afraid…if not for Noa…and Mae…Eagle Clan would not…be here.”

“Proximus ordered your clan to be stolen, and Sylva carried out his orders.” You connected the dots then, “What happened to Proximus?”

“Noa stopped him,” Soona answered without hesitation.

This surprised you. You were aware that Noa killed Sylva, but Proximus as well? Noa did not seem like he was violent, or capable of such great strengths. You assumed he had killed Sylva, a gorilla, by outsmarting him…but Proximus? How? Was Noa secretly more dangerous than you gave him credit for?

Soona grunted then, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Noa says…Mae hid from Proximus…in our village…Noa accidentally…lead them to us…the entire clan was taken…Noa tracked us…for many days…Mae followed…Noa did not know she could speak…until she called his name…Sylva was close…she was scared…she chose Noa as…lesser of the two apes…to fear.”

“So, she lied.” You offered, “Noa was betrayed by her traveling with him but he didn’t know she could speak, or that Proximus was hunting her.”

Soona nodded, “More than that…when Noa and Mae…were taken to Proximus…he learned she shared…the same goal…as Proximus…she wanted to…get inside…get a book…that could help humans…learn to speak…again.”

“That…” you hesitated. You wondered how much to say. A book could not bring back human’s ability to speak. You either were immune or you were not…unless there was a record of some sort. Maybe a cure…a vaccine? Had humans halfway across the world developed their salvation but been unable to share it with anyone outside the vault?

You remembered your vault constantly sending out a signal using the available satellites orbiting Earth, but they never received a response. So much had been lost to time…and if there had been a cure all along? You swallowed the bile in your throat at the thought of how many millions died over time who couldn’t even speak.

You shook your head, “That sounds incredible. Did she find what she was looking for?”

Soona nodded, “Noa helped…we helped her…but she…did not help the clan.”

You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”

Soona huffed, clearly agitated, “The reason…we do not…speak of her…she flooded Proximus’ kingdom…killed many apes…in the process…then ran away.”

“I’m sorry…” It was the only thing you could think to say as silence engulfed the both of you.

“Noa…” Soona began, attention once again towards the forest at your backs. You waited, brows raised as Soona turned back to you. “Noa was…different…after meeting Mae…is different…with you…now.”

Something about that sentence sent chills down your spine. There was many implications, and you chose to ask the most obvious of them, “Does Noa think I’ll turn out to be like Mae? That I’ll betray him? Hurt him or the clan? Is that why he’s always watching me, always careful around me?”

Soona shook her head, “Noa knows…you are not like Mae…you are…what he wished…Mae was…wants to make sure…he does not become….like Mae…to you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I…I threw a rock at him yesterday. I made a mistake…I already hurt him. He shouldn’t think that I’m not like her…I could be. I’m human after all.”

“Human…” Soona began, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Does not mean bad…ape…does not mean good…Noa says…wants others to learn…we are better…stronger…good and bad…together…more alike…than either side…wants to speak of.”

Still cradling the sleeping E in your lap, you leaned your body into Soona’s, head coming to rest between her neck and her shoulder. Her hand slid from your shoulder to the back of your head, leaning in to return your half-hug as well. She patted your head a few times as you sighed, “Thank you, Soona.”

There was silence, peaceful this time. E breathed heavily in your lap from sleep, and the creek next to you trickled soothingly while the sun climbed higher in the sky. You took a deep breath, feeling more prepared to speak to Noa than you had been before. There was a distinct crack sound behind you, causing both you and Soona to turn.

You saw some leaves fall from a tree not to far back, but couldn’t make out anything more than that. You thought you saw movement for a moment, shielding your eyes with your hand once more, when Soona’s Eagle tore through the canopy and landed next to her on the ground. She stood too quickly then for your liking, looking upstream before turning back to you.

Her eyes were pleading, almost desperate as she said, “Do not…be scared…do not run.”

You were confused, until you heard the litter patter of many feet moving towards you. You leaned your body to see past Soona, body tensing and breath freezing at what you saw. Many apes, children from the looks of it, were running down stream towards the both of you. You suddenly did not want to be on the ground.

You carefully scooped E from your lap, holding her close to your chest as you practically leapt to your feet. Whether from being moved or the sudden frantic beat of your heart, E woke with a start. She began to hoot and squirm in your arms. You clutched her tighter to you, feeling your breathing become labored, taking a step or two back in fear. You didn’t get much further, Soona’s arm coming up to hold your arm.

You jerked towards her with frantic eyes. Hers were still calm, concerned as she tried to comfort you. “I am…here…trust.”

As the apes came closer, you swallowed hard, nodding a few times before taking a step closer, behind her. She hummed, screeching at the apes a few moments later. They came skidding to a stop in front of you, all of them transfixed, as if they had never seen a human before. You reasoned, that perhaps they hadn’t. You tried to take deep, discreet breaths to calm your nerves. None of them were taller than your waist, but the thought of so many surrounding you still made you nervous.

Suddenly, the biggest of the bunch stepped forward, sniffing at your feet for a moment before glancing up to meet your gaze. His held tilted in confusion as he demanded in a voice that sounded much younger than he looked, “Why does Eden…get to be carried…by the Echo?”

[theonottsbxtch]

99 PROBLEMS | MV1

an: this is literally a crack fic, i had the idea when i was listening to 99 problems by jay-z and i was talking to @iamred-iamyellow please enjoy

summary: max never expected to one day have a 17 year old son. he didn't know he was a father. but now he's got to try and figure out how this nerd is his son. and also teach him how to live a little.

wc: 3.3k

Max never thought he’d be a single dad to a teenage boy, but shit happens.

One minute, he was in Monaco celebrating another podium win, champagne-soaked and grinning for the cameras. The next, there was a seventeen-year-old with his eyes and an attitude to match standing on his doorstep with a duffel bag. His name was Noah—“not ‘Dad,’ just Max”—and he wasn’t here to bond. No, Noah was here because apparently the universe thought karma would be funnier this way.

Max was on the balcony of his Monaco apartment replying to a few emails, the city’s lights flickering like a postcard behind him. He could hear Noah inside, rifling through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of “real food.”

“Hey, don’t knock the caviar!” Max called over his shoulder. “It’s got protein!”

“Caviar’s not dinner!” Noah fired back, slamming the fridge door.

Max smirked, chuckling a bit. The kid had a point. The life of a Formula One champion didn’t exactly prepare him for raising a teenager. Most days, it was all jet-setting, high-end sponsorships, and a new girl on his arm by sundown. It was messy, but it was his kind of messy. Now? Now, he had to figure out how to squeeze fatherhood in between the chaos.

“You seriously live like this?” Noah asked, stepping onto the balcony, holding up one of Max’s custom helmets. His tone wasn’t admiration—it was judgement.

“Like what?” Max said, not looking up from his phone.

“You know, like...this. Cars, women, parties. I mean, isn’t it exhausting?”

Max chuckled low, pocketing his phone. “Don’t have time to be tired.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, uh...where do I fit in this circus?”

Max turned, his smirk fading just enough to let a flicker of honesty show. “Haven’t figured that out yet. But we’ll make it work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Max glanced back at the city below. “Now, go grab a drink or something. Just...not the champagne.”

And that’s how it started: the driver, his kid, and a life moving faster than either of them could control.

Max hadn’t had a conventional childhood and he could tell this kid did, well as conventional as it was to be dropped off at your dad who you’ve never met’s house a few weeks before your 18th birthday.

He thought that maybe while he was here he could teach him a few things, take him to a few races or something. 

Max didn’t really know what to do.

The private gym was tucked into the corner of Max’s penthouse, all sleek machines and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was rarely used. Most of Max’s training happened at the Headquarters. or with his team, but Noah had been dragging his feet around the apartment all week, so Max figured a little sweat might do them both some good.

“Alright, kid,” Max said, tossing a pair of dumbbells onto the mat. “Let’s see if you’ve got anything in the tank. Ever lifted before?”

“Sure,” Noah replied, unimpressed. He sat down on the bench press, giving the machine a once-over like he was deciding whether or not to trust it.

Max crossed his arms, watching as Noah pushed through a few hesitant reps. “Not bad. But if that’s your warm-up, we’re in trouble.”

Noah glared, setting the weights down with a clink. “Not all of us need muscles for a living.”

Max laughed. “Touché. So, what do you do for fun then?”

“Fun?”

“Yeah, fun. You know, like hobbies, friends, maybe a girlfriend?”

Noah shrugged, grabbing a water bottle. “Not much. I play some video games, read, I guess. Nothing crazy.”

“Read?” Max frowned. “What, no parties? No sneaking out? You don’t go out?”

“Go out where?” Noah’s voice had that dry teenage edge to it. “I’m seventeen. I lived in America my whole life. You can’t even get into a bar without a fake ID there.”

Max froze mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had a drink?”

Noah gave him a look like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. “No?”

Max stared at him, dumbfounded. “God. If only you knew what I was doing at your age when my dad had his back turned.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh, let me guess. Clubbing in Paris. Drinking champagne with supermodels. Living the dream?”

“Belgium, but close,” Max said, leaning against the bench press. “Keg parties in the back of some guy’s trailer in Hasselt. Terrible beer, worse decisions, and my trainer yelling at me the next morning. Still, though. I can’t believe you’re seventeen and haven’t even had a sip.”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Noah muttered.

“Not a big deal?” Max barked out a laugh. “Mate, by seventeen, I’d already figured out my go-to drink order. Vodka tonic. Not classy, but it got the job done.” He leaned in, his grin borderline mischievous. “We’ve got some work to do.”

Noah held up his hands, shaking his head. “Oh no. You’re not turning this into some wild ‘how to live’ project.”

Max raised his eyebrows, mock-innocent. “Hey, I’m just saying. Gotta live a little.”

“Maybe I don’t want to end up like you,” Noah shot back.

Max laughed again, but this time it came quieter, almost thoughtful. “Trust me, buddy. Nobody ends up like me. Now, come on. Two more sets, and then I’ll show you how to make a proper protein shake. Don’t worry—I won’t spike it.”

Noah snorted, shaking his head as he got back to work. It was just another morning, another disagreement, but Max couldn’t help feeling like they were inching closer to something real. Something like family.

By the end of the week, Noah was starting to think his dad was running some kind of unofficial competition.

On Monday, it was Marie. She was Monegasque, blonde, and talked like she was auditioning for a perfume ad. “Bonjour, mon cher,” she’d purred at Noah, ruffling his hair like he was ten. Max had barely noticed her leave, too busy scrolling his phone for his next big sponsorship deal.

Tuesday brought Yasmin, a Brazilian model who walked around the apartment in Max’s oversized shirt, pretending not to notice Noah glaring at her from the couch. She’d tried to make conversation, something about school and books, but Noah had just shrugged until she gave up.

By Wednesday, it was Clara, who had an annoying laugh and kept calling Max “babe” like they’d been married for years.

Thursday was a whirlwind—two girls, both of whom Max forgot to introduce. One of them waved awkwardly at Noah as they left, heels clicking on the tile floor.

By Friday, Noah wasn’t even fazed. He sat at the kitchen counter, eating cereal while Max brewed coffee, shirtless and looking entirely too smug for a guy running on five hours of sleep.

“How?” Noah finally said, his spoon clinking against the bowl.

Max glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “How what?”

“You know.” Noah waved vaguely toward the hallway where yet another pair of heels had disappeared moments ago. “Them. How do you...?”

Max chuckled, shaking his head as he poured his coffee. “Not that complicated.” He took a sip, leaning against the counter like he was about to deliver some ancient wisdom. “They like fast cars and big dreams. I’ve got both.”

Noah squinted at him. “Yeah, but don’t they know what they’re getting into? Like...you’re not exactly giving ‘dad of the year’ vibes.”

Max laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “Oh, they know. Trust me, they all think they’re the one who’s gonna ‘change me.’” He set his mug down, smirking. “Spoiler alert: they’re not.”

Noah frowned, stirring his cereal. “Doesn’t it get old?”

“What?”

“The whole thing. Girls coming and going. Don’t you ever want...I don’t know, something normal?”

Max tilted his head, studying him for a second. “Normal’s overrated. Besides, why are you so interested? You got someone back in the States?”

Noah snorted. “No. Not unless you count my English teacher who used to give me extra credit just to stop talking in class.”

Max grinned, pushing off the counter. “Smart kid. Learn from me, though—don’t waste your charm on teachers. Save it for someone who can actually keep up.”

Noah rolled his eyes, standing up to put his bowl in the sink. “You’re insane.”

“And yet,” Max said, raising his coffee in a mock toast, “I’m still your dad. Crazy how that works.”

Noah shook his head, walking out of the kitchen. But as he headed toward his room, he caught himself smirking. Max was a mess—there was no denying that. But, annoyingly, there was something kind of fascinating about watching him pull it off.

He had to give him some respect. Three time world champion but he lived his life like an unbothered bachelor that didn’t have a multi-million contract under his belt.

Two days later, Max was standing in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide between a black shirt and a white graphic tee. He ended up tossing the black top onto the bed, shrugging into the white tee. His phone buzzed on the nightstand—a message from the group chat reminding him that their table was already reserved at Jimmy’s.

Max grabbed his watch and headed toward the living room, adjusting it as he walked. Noah was sprawled on the couch, scrolling his phone with the kind of disinterested focus only teenagers could pull off.

“You wanna come?” Max asked casually, pulling his car keys from the counter.

Noah didn’t even look up. “I’m seventeen.”

Max leaned against the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And I’m Max Verstappen.”

Noah gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, that’s not how laws work.”

Max stepped into the room, tossing his keys in the air and catching them with one hand. “Relax, kid. You’re with me. No one’s checking your ID.” He raised an eyebrow, adding, “Unless you want to stay here and eat more cereal while I’m out having the time of my life.”

Noah hesitated, sitting up slightly. “What, and hang out with you and your harem of club girls? Hard pass.”

Max grinned, crossing his arms. “It’s not just girls. My friends will be there. Good music, good drinks, a little chaos. You could use some chaos.”

Noah snorted. “I don’t think I fit your ‘chaos’ aesthetic.”

Max walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to fit. You just show up, keep your head up, and let the good times come to you. Trust me, kid—it’s not rocket science.”

Noah looked at him, torn between scepticism and curiosity. “And if I hate it?”

“Then you call it a night, and we’ll come back. No harm, no foul.” Max shrugged. “But at least you’ll know what you’re missing.”

Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anyone tries to buy me a drink, I’m out.”

“Deal.” Max grinned, slapping him on the back. “Now, go change. You’re not wearing that.” He gestured vaguely at Noah’s hoodie and sweatpants.

“What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s not wrong; it’s tragic. Go put on something that says, ‘I’m seventeen, but I could still be cooler than you.’”

Noah rolled his eyes but got up and headed toward his room. Max leaned back against the couch, chuckling to himself. This was either going to be a disaster or the most fun he’d had in weeks.

Fifteen minutes later, Noah emerged in dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It wasn’t flashy, but it worked.

Max whistled. “There you go. Almost looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t push it,” Noah muttered, grabbing his jacket.

“Alright, kid,” Max said, swinging an arm around his shoulders as they headed for the elevator. “Welcome to the good life. Try to keep up.”

Jimmy’z was everything Noah expected and nothing he was prepared for. The place was loud, packed, and drenched in neon lights that pulsed to the bass of some remix he didn’t recognise. Max walked in like he owned it, breezing past the bouncers and slapping hands with a few familiar faces on his way to their table.

The VIP section was cordoned off with velvet ropes and framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. A couple of Max’s friends were already there, leaning back with drinks in hand, laughing at some story one of them was telling.

Max clapped a hand on Lando's shoulder, said something about ordering another round, and then turned to Noah with a grin. “Alright, kid. First drink’s on me.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink?” Noah muttered, looking around nervously.

“You’re not supposed to get caught drinking,” Max corrected, flagging down a waitress. “Two rum and cokes. Easy on the rum for him,” he added with a wink.

Noah sat awkwardly, trying to ignore the curious glances from Max’s friends. When the drinks came, Max slid one across the table. “Here. Cheers.”

Noah picked up the glass and took a cautious sip, immediately grimacing. “This tastes like gasoline.”

Max burst out laughing, nearly spilling his own drink. “Yeah, it’s not exactly a milkshake, but you’ll get used to it.”

Noah frowned but kept sipping, each drink slightly less terrible than the last. By the time the glass was empty, he didn’t hate it—but he definitely wasn’t in a hurry for another.

“Alright,” Max said, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the booth. “Time for your next lesson.”

“Lesson?”

“Yeah.” Max grinned, nodding toward the dance floor where a group of girls was laughing and swaying to the music. “How to get a girl.”

Noah blinked at him. “I’m seventeen.”

“And you’re eighteen in three weeks,” Max shot back, smirking.

Noah raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know that?”

Max sipped his drink, looking almost offended. “I pay attention. I’m not that bad of a father, you know.”

Noah snorted. “Debatable.”

“Hey, come on,” Max said, leaning forward and pointing at him with his glass. “I’ve got three weeks to turn you into someone who doesn’t spend prom night sitting in the corner playing Angry Birds. Let me work my magic.”

“I didn’t go to prom,” Noah mumbled.

“Exactly my point.” Max gestured to the dance floor. “Now, watch and learn.”

Noah shook his head, but he couldn’t help smirking. Watching Max in his element was like watching a lion stalk the savanna. Ridiculous, over-the-top, and somehow annoyingly effective.

Noah leaned back in the plush booth, his gaze flicking nervously between the drink in his hand and the dance floor. “This feels illegal,” he muttered under his breath.

Max, already halfway through his second rum and coke, let out a loud laugh that turned a few heads. “Illegal? We’re in Monaco.” He gestured broadly at the glittering club around them, as if the name alone erased all laws. “The girls here don’t care how old you are, as long as you’re pretty enough.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “And what if I’m not?”

Max leaned forward, smirking. “You’re my son, so of course you are. Trust me, kid, you’ve got the genes. Now, you just need the confidence to back it up.”

Noah rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, sure. Because confidence is something you can just magically summon.”

“Exactly,” Max said, snapping his fingers like it was that simple. “It’s all in the attitude. Look, you don’t need to be the smartest or the funniest guy in the room. You just need to act like you know something they don’t. Makes them curious. Curiosity’s half the battle.”

Noah stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s the dumbest advice I’ve ever heard.”

Max grinned, sitting back and gesturing to the waitress for another round. “And yet, here I am. Multi-millionaire. World champion. Living proof it works.”

“Yeah, but you’re—” Noah hesitated, then gestured vaguely at Max’s whole presence. “You.”

“Exactly. And you’re half me. Which means you’ve already got a head start.” Max leaned in, lowering his voice like he was letting Noah in on a secret. “Here’s the trick: don’t overthink it. If you go out there looking like you’ve got something to prove, you’ll scare ‘em off. Just...be cool.”

“Cool,” Noah repeated, deadpan. “Got it. Thanks for the groundbreaking advice.”

Max smirked, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But if I come back with two numbers before you even finish that drink, you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow.”

Noah shook his head as Max strolled off toward the dance floor, impossibly confident and infuriatingly charismatic. It was hard not to admire it, even if it made him feel like an awkward kid in comparison.

He stared down at his empty glass, debating whether to order another drink or just leave, when a girl about his age walked past and glanced his way. She gave him a small smile, and Noah froze, his heart racing.

Max’s words echoed in his head. “Just act like you know something they don’t.”

Noah took a deep breath, set his empty glass on the table, and stood up. His palms felt clammy, and every nerve in his body screamed at him to sit back down. But then he caught Max watching from the floor with an infuriating smirk before turning to whichever woman he was talking to this time.

Don’t overthink it, Noah reminded himself. Just be cool.

The girl was standing near the edge of the dance floor with a friend, laughing at something on her phone. She looked up as he approached, her eyes flicking over him in curiosity.

“Hey,” Noah said, trying to sound casual. “You looked like you needed saving from a bad joke.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And you’re the knight in shining armour?”

“Something like that,” Noah said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Or at least I’m not the guy who made you laugh like that.”

Her smile widened, and her friend nudged her playfully before disappearing toward the bar. “Smooth,” she said, tilting her head. “Do you use that line often?”

“First time, actually,” Noah admitted, his lips twitching into a nervous grin.

The honesty seemed to win her over. They started talking—light, easy banter—and before Noah knew it, she was laughing at something he’d said about his dad being a “professional bad influence.”

From the booth, Max had a clear view of the whole thing. He nudged Lando, grinning like a proud idiot. “Lan, look!” He pointed toward the dance floor. “The son of a bitch did it!”

Lando squinted, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Max chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “He’s my kid. Of course he’s got it in him.”

Noah returned to the table a while later, looking flushed and slightly dishevelled. His lips were swollen, and there was a faint lipstick smudge on his cheek.

Max raised his glass in a mock toast. “Atta boy!”

Noah slid into the booth, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Max said, slapping him on the back. “You’re officially part of the club now.”

Lando smirked. “Better keep an eye on him, Max. He’s almost got more potential than you.”

“Potential? He’s a damn prodigy,” Max joked, laughing. “First drink, first girl, all in one night. Kid’s got a better batting average than I did at his age.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. As much as his dad’s teasing drove him crazy, there was something undeniably cool about seeing Max so proud.

“Alright,” Max said, clapping his hands together. “Now that you’ve got your feet wet, let’s see if you can do it again.”

Noah shook his head, laughing. “Not a chance. One’s enough for tonight.”

“Fair enough,” Max said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “But just so you know—you’ve officially graduated from boring.”

For once, Noah didn’t argue.

the end.

[moonlight0934]

Jason shoots the man in front of him, once, then twice, and then a third time. The image of this man standing over his baby brother is seared into his head, and he can barely push back the green tinting his vision. The only thing that pulls him back from the edge is Dick’s voice. It sounds muffled and far away, but he can make out Damian’s name. Jason turns around, his hearing starting to come back. Dick is hunched over Damian’s body, his hands pressed against Damian’s chest. It takes Jason a few seconds to realize what’s happening, but he feels his legs almost go out from underneath him when he does. 

Four Hours Earlier

Jason kicks his feet up on the coffee table, leaning back in his chair. It’d been a long day, and he was working early instead of his normal six to three night shift. He finished all of his work and got home by seven. So, he turns on the TV as background noise, and picks up a book. He quietly reads for a few minutes before his phone starts ringing. He glances at it, and sees Dick’s caller ID on the screen. So, he silences the ringing, and puts it back down. It only takes a few minutes for it to start ringing again, and Jason puts his head back. 

“I can’t get one night where they leave me alone?” he mutters as though the last time he talked to one of them wasn’t two weeks ago. Also, it was Damian, who busted in on one of his drug deals while actively fighting a rival gang. “What do you want?” Jason asks, sounding annoyed. 

“Damian is missing. I need your help.” 

“Where’d the brat run off to this time? Have you checked the Kent’s?” 

“Yes, he didn’t run off. He was kidnapped, and I’m sure of it.” 

“Ok, why can’t Bruce just track him down?” 

“Because Bruce isn’t here.” 

“Then call him. Where could he possibly be that’s more important than tracking down his son?” 

“He’s in the hospital. Can you please just stop arguing, and help me look for him?” 

Jason freezes, his throat getting tight. “Why is he in the hospital?” His voice comes out tighter than he means for it to. 

Dick’s tone softens as he answers, “He’s fine. Apparently he and Tim were out walking earlier when someone started shooting everyone in the area. They think that it was a random shooting, but Tim got hit. That was actually why it took us a while to realize that Damian wasn’t home after school. Some of the teachers saw him before class, but he wasn’t there when class actually started. His bag was still at school too. I need your help to find him. I haven’t told Bruce, because Tim needs someone there in case something happens.” 

“In case something happens? Like a medical proxy?” 

Dick sighs. “Yes. It’s not looking good right now, but he’ll pull through. He was shot in the chest, and he’s in the ICU. They think he’ll be fine, and that he’ll be moved soon.” 

“Ok, I’ll help. I still think we should tell Bruce though. I know he’ll want to come running, but we can’t lie to him about his youngest child being missing .”

“I know, I know. I just wanted backup, so I could convince him not to leave the hospital.” 

“Fine, where should I meet you?” 

“I’m almost at your safe house right now.” 

Dick hangs up before Jason can respond, and he grips his phone almost hard enough to break it. He grabs his guns, and heads outside to meet Dick. They end up searching for hours without finding any leads before Dick’s phone starts buzzing. 

“What’s that?” Jason asks, peeking over Dick’s shoulder. 

“It’s a distress signal. I think it’s Damian’s. We have to get to this location. It’s an abandoned amusement park on the edge of town. That’s really weird. I don’t know why anyone would take him there, but we have to check it out. Keep your eyes peeled.” 

Jason nods, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. They head to the amusement park. Even as they’re hopping the fence surrounding the property, they can hear laughing that breaks the silence. Jason frowns, reaching out to touch Dick’s arm. Dick barely glances at him before following the noise. Jason follows a little more cautiously. 

That is until he sees the scene that’s causing the laughter. One man off to the side is telling the others to stop, but no one is listening. Two men are standing in front of a small body while a third one is standing over him with his foot planted on Damian’s chest. Jason’s chest constricts as Dick races over. He kicks one of the first two men in the head, and everyone backs up. 

Jason starts shooting before any of them can do anything. Two go down immediately, and he shoots the last one in the arm. The one Dick kicked was knocked out cold on impact. The two men Jason shot are already dead by then, but he saved the rest of his bullets for the man that thought he could put his foot on Jason’s brother. He shoots him over and over again, unable to even stop. 

Then he sees Dick doing chest compressions on Damian as he sobs, and begs unintelligibly. Jason’s hand goes for his phone immediately. He calls Barbara as he crashes to his knees beside Damian’s head. He’s covered in blood, and his fingers are broken. They’re bent completely out of shape, though his chest doesn’t seem to be in much better shape. It almost looks caved in, not that the CPR is helping with that. 

“Jason, I’m surprised to hear from you.” 

“We need an extraction, and medical help right now.” 

“In costume, or out?” 

“Out, it can be an ambulance. Just call someone.” 

“Who is it?” Barbara asks, his voice all business. 

“Damian. He’s-” Jason has to pause for a second before continuing. “He’s not breathing. We need an extraction right now.” 

Dick motions towards Damian, and pauses his compressions. He still hasn’t said anything coherent, but Jason understands. He takes over rescue breaths while Dick continues with compressions. Barbara keeps asking questions, but he can’t tell what they are. He drops his phone back onto the ground, and doesn’t give it another thought. He keeps his eyes on his brother even as sirens start wailing in the background. 

How are they already here? It hasn’t been that long, has it? 

He breathes for Damian again before pressing his fingers into Damian’s neck. Dick is looking at him with so much hope in his eyes, but Jason just shakes his head. Paramedics run up, and Jason has to pull Dick away from Damian’s still body. Dick goes completely limp, and Jason pulls him in for a hug. He watches over Dick’s shoulder as they continue trying to reestablish a heartbeat. He keeps Dick tucked against his chest. The air stays trapped in his lungs until he hears them start to load him up. He’s not close enough anymore to hear the EEG over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. The lights are still on when they drive away though, and that’s the only reason Jason even knows that they succeeded. 

“He’s alive,” he whispers, but it’s enough for Dick to hear. 

“He is?” 

Gordon runs over to them. They’re both still collapsed on the ground, Jason’s arms loosely wrapped around Dick. Dick is crying again, but relieved this time. 

“What happened?” Gordon asks, kneeling down beside them. 

Jason lets his hands drop to the dirt on either side of himself. “Damian was kidnapped earlier. He was actively being assaulted when we got here. Someone was practically standing on him,” Jason says, his eyes distant. 

“Is he alright?” 

“No, but maybe he will be. Can you call the old man? Tell him what happened and that Damian is heading his way?” 

Gordon nods, and stands up. He’s still watching Dick, but he calls Bruce. Jason eventually forces Dick to his feet, and drags him to his car. They both get changed, and then head to the hospital. Bruce is waiting for them in the lobby. 

“Hey, what’s the news? On either one of them,” Jason adds. 

“Tim is stable, and in a normal room now. Damian is in surgery now. I don’t know anything else.” 

Dick sniffles, and Bruce wraps his arms around Dick. “Shhh, I’m here. You’ll be alright. We’ll figure everything out. Thank you for helping, Jason.” 

Jason nods. “Yeah, it’s no problem.” 

They end up sitting together for hours waiting to hear about Damian. They don’t talk, all three of them still unsure of what to say. Eventually a doctor comes out, and makes a beeline for Bruce. 

“Mr. Wayne, I’m here to talk to you about your son.” 

Bruce stands up. “We can speak over there. I’ll be right back.” 

Jason puts a hand on Dick’s arm, offering silent support. Dick leans into the touch, both of their eyes still trained on their dad. Bruce talks to the doctor for at least fifteen minutes before walking back over. 

“He’s out of surgery. He has eight broken ribs, four broken fingers, a broken cheekbone, and a fractured collarbone. They’re pretty confident that he’s going to survive though.” 

Jason feels Dick deflate next to him. “Can we see him?” 

Bruce nods, looking twenty years older than he did the last time Jason saw him before tonight. 

“Can you point me to Tim’s room?” Jason asks, standing up. 

Bruce nods again, and gives him directions to Tim’s room along with the room number. 

“I’m heading that way. Let me know if anything changes.” 

He walks to the elevator, and makes his way to Tim’s room. Tim, surprisingly, is awake. 

“Hey, Jason,” he says, sounding sleepy. 

“Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?” 

“Fine, I’m surprised you’re here. I figured you’d be with Damian.” 

“How did you hear about that?” Jason asks, sitting down next to him. 

“I have my ways.” 

“You’re hurt pretty bad. What happened?” 

“Bruce and I got shot at. I don’t really remember anything other than that. How is he?” 

“He’ll live.” 

“That’s not a good answer.” 

“Not really, but that's all I have to say right now. You should get some more rest.” 

“You should get some rest too. You look like shit.” 

“Wow, thanks, Tim,” Jason says sarcastically. 

He leans back in his chair, closing his eyes. Tim laughs softly though it sounds painful. 

“Get some sleep,” Jason whispers. 

Tim hums, and Jason allows himself to drift off. Tim is still asleep when Jason wakes up again. His phone is buzzing, and he looks down to see a text from Dick. 

Damian is awake. You should come see him. He’s completely out of it, but I think he’s going to be alright. 

Jason blinks, then looks at the clock. 

“I was asleep for seven hours?” he whispers. 

He glances back at Tim one more time, then heads back to Damian’s room. Damian is awake, but his eyes are glassed over. Dick has a gentle hand on Damian’s leg. Damian turns his attention to Jason as he walks in. 

“Akhi, you’re here. Baba said you were, but I wasn’t sure,” Damian says, his accent coming through more than it normally does. 

Jason blinks, entirely unsure of how to respond. He’s never heard Damian talk like that, especially not to him. “Yeah, I’m here.” He grabs Damian’s small hand in his own. “How you feeling?” 

Damian pauses, thinking about it. “High. I don’t really feel anything else.” 

Jason snickers. “Yeah, that makes sense. You’re probably on a lot of meds.” 

“I don’t think I like it. Can you tell them to stop drugging me?” 

“No, I can’t. We have appearances to keep up, remember?” 

Damian shakes his head. “No, I don’t. You’ll have to keep mine up for me.” 

Jason bites his lip, a smile still sneaking its way onto his face. “I can do that.” 

“May I get some more sleep?” 

“Of course you can.” 

Damian hums, and lets his eyes fall closed again. 

“He’s so cute isn’t he?” Dick coos, his face soft. His voice still holds a tinge of the grief from earlier, but he looks and sounds better. So does Bruce, who is still standing in the corner. 

“I’m going to see Tim,” Bruce says, giving all of them a smile. 

Jason nods before turning back to Damian. 

“I’m so glad that they’re both going to be ok,” Dick says. “Thank you for coming. I don’t think I could have saved him today without you.” 

Jason brushes his thumb over Damian’s knuckles. “Yeah, well, I don’t want the brats dead. We already knew you were useless anyway.” 

Dick smiles, and punches Jason’s shoulder. Jason smirks, but keeps his eyes on Damian.

Trust Issues

Damian watches through half open eyes as his family eats breakfast around him. He keeps his guard up, a feeling of anxiety and immanent threat choking him. He hasn’t slept in days, the smallest noise snapping him back to full awareness. Bruce looks over at him, narrowing his eyes.

“Why aren’t you eating, Damian?”

“I am,” Damian immediately lies.

Bruce looks confused at that, because of how obviously not true it is. Damian puts a singular piece of strawberry from his fruit salad into his mouth. Then he stands up, slipping out of his chair.

“Come on, Damian. We’re doing so good this morning. Tim is even eating.”

“Father, Tim agreed because he’s still asleep. He was eating, then he fell asleep with his bite of eggs half out of his mouth.”

Bruce turns to Tim, who is in fact asleep with his spoon only half in his mouth.

“Tim, dear, you’re going to choke,” Bruce says, taking the spoon out of his mouth.

Tim startles, pulling back.

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

Damian slips out of the room while Bruce is reoccupied with Tim. He heads up to his room to get dressed for school, though that’s the last thing he wants to do right now. He sighs as he walks into his room to grab his uniform. It’s only a few minutes before he’s coming back down the stairs, and heading for the door. Damian can hear Bruce trying to get Tim to fully wake up so he doesn’t fall face first into his eggs.

Damian walks out without letting anyone know that he’s leaving since someone will insist on driving him to school. The walk is quiet, though that’s only because it’s so early that no one with good intentions is out right now. Most kids aren’t allowed to walk, that’s why Damian usually isn’t either. It’s not that they don’t know he can take care of himself, but they have appearances to keep up. They have to look like they’re prissy rich kids, though Damian hates how he has to act every time he leaves the house without being in costume.

A few of the small time muggers eye him as he’s walking past, but his glare is enough to put them off till he gets past them. It’s still quiet as the light manages to get past the clouds, lightening the sky. Damian keeps his hands in his pockets.

The school is empty too since he’s early. The teachers are the only ones there, and they all seem surprised to see him as they pass him in the halls. He heads straight to the cafeteria to wait on everyone else to show up. It’s quiet, so he pulls out his drawing pad and colored pencils.

A feeling of apprehension creeps up on him even though he’s alone, almost as if something is going to jump out of the shadows. After a few minutes, Damian jumps to his feet. He looks around wildly, but doesn’t see anything. He darts out of the exit attached to the cafeteria, leaving his bag, and not even sure where he’s going.

His vision starts going in and out, his hearing cutting out completely. He redirects himself to head back home, but doesn’t even get a few feet before passing out. When he wakes up, he can’t recognize where he is. It looks like a booth of some sort. People are talking right outside.

“Man, it sure took a long time for that toxin to kick in. We had to follow him for almost eight days,” one complains.

“He was in his house for a lot of that time, shut up,” another replies, sounding annoyed.

“Still, you’d think it wouldn’t be that useless. That’s a long time.”

Damian blinks, looking down. He’s zip tied to a chair, rope wrapped around his wrists and fingers on top of the zip ties.

Someone kidnapped me? They gassed me with some sort of toxin? That must be why I was feeling the way that I was.

He pulls one hand out of the ropes with a smug grin.

Now, time to get out of here discreetly so as not to ruin my secret identity. I need to call in backup.

He pulls the other one out, then begins taking the zip ties off of his wrists.

As long as I don’t get caught, I should have no issue with this. Even if they think I escaped somehow, I could still come back in costume with my family. However, there’s only one door.

Damian walks over to the door, feeling much heavier than he normally does. He cracks the door open soundlessly. It’s dark outside, but it’s not hard for him to tell that they’re in an abandoned amusement park. The Ferris Wheel is looming over the buildings, stalls, and shut down attractions.

The guards are less than a foot away from the door, still distracted with their conversation. Damian slips out of the doorway, making a beeline for the next attraction. He makes it there without incident, giving him time to look for his emergency beacon. Luckily it’s there, still tucked into the heel of his shoe.

He clicks it before straightening back up. Then someone grabs him by the collar. A large man shakes Damian. He almost punches the man in the throat, but remembers why he can’t in just enough time to pull back. The man punches him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He feels the man throw him towards the two guards that were watching him originally.

One of them kicks him in the face immediately. This goes on for a while as they take turns hitting him while he just has to lie there and take it. Eventually he tastes blood coming up his throat, and at this point, he’s not even sure where it’s coming from. Though it doesn’t really matter if he’s throwing it up or coughing it up, either one is pretty bad.

I wonder what they wanted. They sure did do a lot to just kill me.

Someone stomps down on his fingers, breaking them. He doesn’t let out a single noise.

That’s probably why they’re still going. I haven’t screamed or cried like this is a big deal. I wonder if they’re going to figure out how badly I’m already hurt.

It’s only a minute later when exactly that happens.

“Hey, I think you’re going too far. He has to be alive to use him for ransom,” the second man calls, sounding worried. He also sounds far away, and Damian doesn’t feel like listening anymore.

A few more sounds bring him back from the edge, even if just a little bit. It sounds like a scuffle of some sort. Then someone grabs his head, startling him. He cracks his eyes open, seeing Dick above him. He’s in costume, his mask covering his eyes.

“Hey, Baby Bird. Just hold on, we’re going to get you to a hospital. You’ll be ok.”

“You came,” Damian whispers, blinking his heavy eyes.

“What do you mean? Of course we did. Don’t you trust us?”

Damian doesn’t respond, letting his eyes drop closed.

“No, Damian, open your eyes!”

Dick shakes his shoulders, but everything continues to fade. He doesn’t feel it as Dick keeps shaking him, and eventually stops hearing him too. Then nothing.

[daydreamerdrew]

Tales of Suspense (1959) #89

[murdleandmarot]

Now I’m interested in your dad’s take. If it’s not invasive, please share?

\(´∀｀)/

HI HELLO!!!!!! I’d happy to share, I love talking about these things!!!!! It might get a bit rant-y but I promise I’m just trying to cover all bases :]

Some context: my dad grew up with cats, specifically the 1983 broadway album, which means that while he’s never seen the 1998 movie, he has seen the show live 2-3 times, (my family is pretty musical-my grandma saw the og show with Betty Buckley, and I’ve never been more jealous of anybody in my entire life).

So: we were talking about stuff and nonsense and I explained the newsies vs cats poll. Obviously he knew a bit about both shows, as I’d recently been in newsies and made him watch the Broadway version.

He of course immediately started talking about how many criticisms you could do of each show. It quickly devolved into him bitching about Skimbleshanks and Santa Fe, because he hates both of them in equal measure, (although Santa Fe may take the cake. He despises the entire plot line).

I brought up the criticism that many musical fans seem to have about cats: “it’s not about anything” or “it doesn’t have a theme/plot.”

“That’s just blatantly not true, munkustrap, (I called him gray cat guy in the conversion), explains the plot in the third song. You know, jellicles go to the jellicle layer, blah blah blah.”

“Well, sure,” said he, “but what’s the show really about then?”

“Uhhhhh,” I said, it being like 11 o clock at night, “it’s mostly about second chances and forgiveness, right?”

To which he said, no. Cats is about pride. More specifically, ego death.

All of the cats are prideful. The Rum Tum Tugger, obviously, but also the Gumbie cat, the old theater cat was the best there’s ever been, as featherfore-whatever his name was. You know, even the stupid train cat. They’re all walking around talking about how great they are, or were, except Grizabella.

She just says “hey, I’m here, I’m done, I’m down and out, and I’ve got nothing and no one. I’m just here. Times were great, but without the memory, I have nothing”

And that’s why they’re like YES. You get to go the heavyside layer. You get it. You deserve your second life.

[finderseeker]

@leucoratia Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about him even more

First off, I’m glad this solution seems to be such a hit!! I just couldn’t reconcile the character WD was becoming/had become with what we know of Gaster. So this works well!!! (Despite the questions it raises meta-wise.)

*Rubs my hands together evilly* Okay SO! WD and his relationship with Grandpa here. I haven’t completely decided on anything just yet but I do have some Ideas. Some Notions if you will.

I think there’s pressure to get into the field from family, yes. But I don’t think it was necessarily negative pressure, if that makes sense. Like, I’m not sure it was the kind of thing where they would have been disapproving or upset if he chose some other career, per se. More that they didn’t even consider the possibility that he would choose anything else. Sans is a physicist, Papyrus is an engineer/mechanic/something like that, and they’re both very smart, but WD, oh, he’s the prodigy. He’s the golden child, even for all his quirks and rarities. An anxious disposition and weirdly long tail and unusual font and cracked lip aside, he’s got so much going for him!

I think that, likely, in their efforts to ensure that he didn’t feel any different than anyone else regarding disposition and physical traits/limitations, and that he knew he was ✨special✨ because he’s so smart, his parents probably made it all worse, actually. Not acknowledging that he was, in fact, different and unusual only made him feel more invisible. Which of course made him feel bad, because he was the main focus of his family’s attention. (‘How can I be unsatisfied with when I get so much attention compared to my brothers? Am I just spoiled?’)

He felt he had no time to goof around, no time to play, because he ought to be studying and learning more. ‘Why, with a mind like that, he surely takes after his grandfather in more than just font! Perhaps he will be the next Royal Scientist!’ said everyone. Which, y’know, gets to you as a kid.

While it was only ever meant to be encouraging, the pressure to live up to that was overwhelming. It’s not just that he’s named after his grandfather, it's not just an abstract sentiment for skeletons. He’s got his font. Which, apparently, suggests some other similarities. He’s always The Serious One among his brothers because they’re always goofing off (from his POV anyway) when they should be working! How can they be so lackadaisical? The fate of all monsters rests on them helping their grandfather; how can they be so relaxed just because they aren’t on the clock? Is their pay the only thing that matters to them!? They should be endeavoring to find solutions at all times!

So. Yeah. His mindset is very much shaped by the idea that it’s his responsibility to use his abilities to help others. It’s not as simple as letting his family down. What he wants has never been a factor in the equation, and so he doesn’t linger on it. The way he exists has already dictated his life course. It’s as simple as that. It’s not out of love for others— whether his family specifically or monsterkind at large— but rather out of obligation and responsibility. He does not feel a particularly strong affection towards monsters in general. (The opposite, actually.) He has never seen the surface, and frankly, with as dangerous as humans are, he doesn’t entirely understand why or agree with the idea that getting up there would be a good thing to begin with. But breaking the barrier is the goal that’s been put in front of him, and so that’s what he works towards. Along with the supposedly more achievable goal of “helping people,” despite that being an incredibly vague and nebulous concept with no real direction.

He’s got this whole complex about what he’s supposed to be. No one is actually stopping him from being anything else, but the barriers he’s erected in his own mind feel immovable. If he has all of this ability, how could he not use it? Everyone is relying on him to be as brilliant as his grandfather and carry this mantle, but no one understands the pressure he’s under. No one understands anything! Even Papyrus, who practically never sleeps, doesn’t appreciate why he can’t just “take a break.” If he doesn’t accomplish something, he will never be free from these expectations!

I think deep down that’s why he kind of idolizes sci-fi supervillains? All the intelligence, all the means, and they use it for their own interests! They are beholden to no one, only themselves, and even the “heroes” can never stop them for good. Sometimes, the villains have better motivations than the heroes, even. I think WD’s fantasy, subconscious or not, is being able to go completely off the rails and create and do something utterly selfish. He has some bizarre resentment, I think, against people in general. Maybe it’s envy, in the sense that they lack the burden he does. Maybe it’s some kind of frustration that they’re all just standing around, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for some kind of “salvation” from either the king or from them, the scientists responsible for every other quality of life. If this solution needs to be found so desperately, why is it being left to so few people!? Why aren’t study of human magic and other magical-scientific disciplines a required field in schools? Why is there not a requirement that all who are able work on this pressing issue!?

So. He’s got this buried, probably subconscious resentment. He’s always irritated because of it. It feels like he’s the only one taking this seriously, and therefore the only one who can do anything about it. Rather than be reassured that no one is forcing this on him, his perception is that because no one else will “take it seriously” (read: “work ceaselessly”), it must fall to him. He has to. Because otherwise it will always be hanging over his head.

Now. Grandpa Gaster definitely doesn’t approve of… any of this. (In general, not the supervillain thing. WD is taking that secret to the grave.) Gaster encourages him to take breaks and not work himself so hard. Unfortunately, despite his kindness and reassurance, WD only sees that as, “Look, this is so simple for him that he doesn’t even need to exert effort! He thinks I’m far more capable than I am, he must think I’m accomplishing more than I actually am. I have to work harder so that I can reach that level and live up to this.”

Yeah.

Gaster is quite caught up in his own work, and although he cares very much for his grandsons, I don’t think he’s entirely… connected with them. He doesn’t realize what WD is putting himself through, entirely. He just sees a bright, like-minded young man with a strong work ethic and a love for helping others! Even if he’s a bit prickly and perhaps embarrassed about it. But he’ll come around! Young people are so caught up in how they’re perceived by others; surely WD will mellow as he ages.

(Spoiler: he doesn’t. Or, he doesn’t really get the chance to.)

The biggest difference between them is that Gaster is doing this because he loves people and he loves his work. All his efforts are a labor of love. For monsters, for unity, for freedom, for the universe. WD is doing this because he feels that he must. He is not especially moved by love. He doesn’t gain a sense of purpose from this, he only feels burdened.

Gaster doesn’t quite… pick up on this. I think he would love to have a warm relationship with his grandsons, and prooooobably does more with Sans and Papyrus. WD, meanwhile, has so many self-inflicted mental barriers and blocks and restrictions and obligations that he’s created this artificial distance between them. It really, really doesn’t need to be this way, but unfortunately our perception shapes our reality, and the stronger a person believes something to be a certain way— that is, the less open they are to being wrong— the stronger they shape their reality. Someone like Gaster, who is open to different interpretations and understandings and so on, is more likely to see reality for what it is— but even he’s not infallible, because he is a singular person who has his own experiences and therefore his own perception. He thinks WD is just “at that age” (whatever that means) and is simply trying to prove something or is overly worried about what other people think of him, and that it will pass with time. He doesn’t understand that WD is torturing himself over pressure that isn’t even real.

He thinks it's so wonderful that WD wants to work with him and spend time with him, and oh, he's such a bright young man, he will surely accomplish so much! He's so proud of him.

WD is... not really capable of accepting love (in the form of acceptance or pride) from others right now, because I think he feels like he has yet to earn it, maybe? He's got this impossible standard he's trying to reach,* and he's depriving himself of everything until he can get there. (Which will be never.) He's miserable and it's all self-inflicted. It doesn't even need to be this way. ((He and Seeker (the character) have this in common I think…))

He does love his family. He loves his brothers and his parents (probably?) and his grandfather and his cousin(s). He loves them way more than he'd ever admit out loud. He's exasperated that none of them seem to Get It, but he's so convinced that he's the only one who's right that there's really no telling him otherwise. He doesn’t even know what he wants, only that he doesn’t have it and can’t have it. (Except, he can, of course, if he would just freaking calm down for a second.)

The funny (or sad) thing is that if he could just get past this thing he’s got in his mind, he’d be a much happier, more fulfilled person. If he weren’t busy stressing himself out and running himself ragged (and actually making his own anxiety worse in the process), he’d be a warm, conscientious person and a loving, attentive partner. As it stands, he’s Stress Response Central and essentially is slowly cutting himself off from the people who care about him, rather than rely on them. (This potentially includes Asteri, but their relationship is a whooole different post.)

If he keeps on this path, one of two things is going to happen: he’s either going to end up killing himself (or worse) by falling into the same thing that shattered Gaster in some desperate last-ditch attempt to Fix Everything; or he’s going to crack (no pun intended) under the pressure and burn out in an absolute fireball of metaphorical explosives.

And from the outcome where he doesn’t die/end up meeting a similar fate as his grandfather, there are two outcomes.

So, he’d burn himself out gifted kid style, but like several times worse. Has a complete breakdown and it resigns him to being stuck at home/in bed recovering his mental and emotional energy. But also being extremely depressed and probably rotting a little bit. And isolating even more, honestly.

The good ending would be him slowly recovering and making peace with not being The Only One Who Can Fix Everything, and maybe not even staying in the same field of work (if he can work anymore). The good ending also involves him being on good terms with Tempus again. (But that’s an entire can of worms I’m not touching here.) If he’s anything like me, it’s gonna take a few years (minimum) of rest and recovery after pushing himself that hard. I would not be surprised if he causes some permanent damage to himself (either mentally/emotionally or physically) that renders him unable to work/do what he used to.

The bad ending is that he rots in bed and wallows in depression and mourns the fact that he “wasn’t good enough” to stand up under the weight of everything and Fix It. And he just. stays like that. Isolating himself more and more, refusing to talk even to his brothers. And also Tempus still hates him. And that’s it that’s his whole life. The rest of it is spent mourning and regretting and reliving every decision that got him here, reflecting on all the things he deprived himself of in pursuit of his goal, only to fail and end up unable to have those things now that he has all the in the world. Self-deprivation of pleasure or enjoyment or rest, and for what? To break down under the weight of it all and have none of it anyway. He should have enjoyed what he was offered when he had the chance to accept it.

Anyway, as you can see I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about him (and this isn’t even all of them). I doubt that he resents his grandfather, but I do think that with the way things end up, he feels like a disappointment to him and there’s really no way to ever be assured otherwise because Gaster’s gone by that point. But I guess that’s part of the point, really: that you’ve gotta be okay with where you are so long as you’re doing what you can (to a reasonable degree), even if it disappoints other people. I think WD needs a lot of things but honestly I don’t even know how to begin to help him. He needs to go on vacation.

On an ENTIRELY unrelated note, I may have come up with a really funny (read: “stupid”) solution to the problem mentioned in the second half of the tags on this post.

Which isn’t what I wanted to focus on. I need to work on the stuff I already have going. But. It would be funny and unfortunately sometimes that’s the most compelling thing.

I will elaborate on what this possible solution is tomorrow.

[kitsunabi]

*hires me for my ability to work outside of ‘typical’ work hours*

*proceeds to grill my clients about why they’re class times are week ends and or late nights*

Tbh this is up there with:

*dor sets my rate + travel svc + mileage*

*dor complains that I’m too expensive to hire bc mileage*

[husbants]

exhausted of existing ✌️

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[gentleman-detective]

I recently moved out to the middle of nowhere, and not only have I made it my entire personality, but I’ve also benefited from lots of time without internet or cell service. you think this would make me productive but unfortunately I only have thoughts about sherlock holmes. I’m out here with theories and shit like I’m sherlockrates.

[flowering-darkness]

Oooh 🔒 — @edencantstopfallininlove

Hello Eden!! Thank you for sending this in! I hope you’re doing okay~

(source: this post by permafrown)

send me a 🔒 and I’ll tell you a character who I WOULD F/O if I locked the fuck in (to their source) and why! - For this lock, I will say Grusha from Pokémon. Now, this might spark an outcry of “Astral you’re already super into Pokémon!”. And you’d be right to cry out such! But, my interest is quite well-tied to specific games and regions - Kalos, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Reborn (despite that being from a fangame). Paldea and its characters (and Pokémon) are nice, but.. I just didn’t get the same attachment to Violet as a game than I did Y or Pearl or Ruby. My selfship with N is something I feel I can have exist and progress as it does because N shows up so many times in his games, as a rival to the player. The Gym Leaders and Elite Four, however, don’t hold that same prominence in the overall story, and so it feels like any “plot points” of a selfship with Grusha would have to be established or developed “off-screen”, so to speak, compared to how you progress the game when playing it. And I don’t really like doing that, unless I’m able to give my self-insert a lot of lore in her own right (for example Lorenza, though she does also now have several ships set more within the main story of FFXIV than my one with Zero). I may well be able to draw upon the plots of the anime and manga to add in more story, but.. that requires me to actually watch and read those, which I’m not sure I can be motivated to. So, all of this is why he (and also Rika, for the same reasons) will likely remain on the crush list forever.

He is cute, though.

I hope that this was alright as an explanation! Thank you once again for sending something in~

[liesmultixxx]

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